


View from the Balcony: A Short Story from the Fifth Story

by peanutbutterandchelly



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Balconies have feelings too, F/M, Fluff, Inanimate Object, One Shot, POV Inanimate Object, Romance, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbutterandchelly/pseuds/peanutbutterandchelly
Summary: Poppy's balcony observes her growing relationship with Tora.
Relationships: Tora/Poppy, Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	View from the Balcony: A Short Story from the Fifth Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCurvedWritingDesk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCurvedWritingDesk/gifts).



> I want to preface this work first by giving credit where it is due. This oneshot is a gift to TheCurvedWritingDesk, who has been an inspiration to me since I first discovered AO3. She has several chapters in her "Requests" piece that are told from the point of view of Tora's belongings and I asked if she would write a fic from the POV of Poppy's easel/canvas or her balcony. (She said she would, so be on the look out for them!)
> 
> After pitching the idea to Curvy, I desperately wanted to write my OWN take on a story told by Poppy's balcony. Ironically, I had actually started a piece of fiction told from a balcony's POV in 2012; it was based on my ex-boyfriend in college, who lived on the second floor of a campus apartment. That balcony observed several significant points in our relationship, including his confession of feelings for me and the moment I knew we weren't meant to last. It was so prominent and heart-wrenching that I felt the urge to write it. 
> 
> This is different than any work I've uploaded to AO3 so far and I hope you enjoy it! I'll be back with another update to my Stages one-shot series hopefully in the next week or so :) 
> 
> A special shout out goes to BegoniaRex and my best friend Gaby for beta-reading and always cheering me on. I love these girls. 
> 
> You can (and should!) check out "Requests" and all other works by TheCurvedWritingDesk here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCurvedWritingDesk/pseuds/TheCurvedWritingDesk/works?fandom_id=37900783
> 
> Love you all and see you soon <3
> 
> pb&c
> 
> \---
> 
> All rights to these characters and the original story belong to the goddess known as Lilydusk.
> 
> \---

The first time the balcony saw Little Woman, he was unimpressed. 

She looked like the tenants who had lived in the apartment before: fresh-faced young women who had naïve dreams of making it on their own and conquering the city. 

They never lasted long. 

The balcony was excited when the first girl moved into the unit; he knew the apartment craved human interaction and had been running on an empty stomach for far too long.

It had been too long since he himself had felt the welcomed weight of a person lounging on his wooden face and taking in the view over his railing.

It would be nice to serve a purpose again.

After just two months, the first girl had broken her lease agreement and moved back home with her parents; the balcony bitterly observed them as they hauled boxes out of the apartment and into a pickup truck. 

In the time she had spent there, the girl never stepped out onto the balcony, never decorated it or took pride in it, so there was no need for goodbyes. 

It was with this first girl the balcony realized that the only thing he should ever be attached to was this building.

The second girl stayed four months longer then the first and the balcony wished she’d _never_ stepped foot on him. She held loud parties that left the apartment with a sour belly and holes in his walls. The rare visits that she made to the balcony were to smoke and put out her cigarettes on its railing. 

It was the one time the balcony could remember since his construction that he purposely wanted to give someone a splinter. 

When she finally moved out, the balcony and the apartment agreed that they could do without another tenant for a long while; they were tired of being burned. 

And then, _she_ happened.

Little Woman couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and had such a big personality, the balcony wondered how her tiny body had room for it all. She left the sliding glass door open a lot during the summer months and the balcony could feel every one of the apartment’s grateful breaths drift across him. 

As Little Woman moved the last of her belongings into the apartment’s belly, the balcony was intrigued when it felt her springy footsteps wander over his face; she set a box down on top of him and the balcony let out a wooden groan of surprise. Was she going to… _decorate_ him?

One at a time, he felt the bottom of three planters being set gently on his wood-grained skin and then scooted into his corners beside the railing. She hung a plant from the overhang and a string of twinkly lights. When it seemed she was satisfied, Little Woman rubbed her hands together and smiled. 

A _smile._

When was the last time he’d seen one?

However long it’d been, the crescent on her face was a welcome sight.

That night, Little Woman brought out a mug of tea and leaned against his railing for a long while as she stared out at the outline of the distant city. The heat of her body pressed against the wood railing was a comforting and welcomed presence; they barely knew each other and the balcony liked that she already trusted him not to let her fall.

She was rounder and heavier than the previous tenant, and she moved happily, almost clumsily, like the toddler who had lived in the apartment all those years ago.

She was cute and against his better judgment, the balcony found himself hoping Little Woman would stay awhile.

\---

Little Woman was a painter. 

At first, the balcony wasn’t entirely sure about it. Previously, a tenant that had resided in the apartment five years ago, decided to refinish a piece of furniture on the balcony. The older man had knocked over an entire half gallon of primer onto the balcony’s face and never bothered to clean it up. 

When the man moved out, Landlord hired a man to use a power washer to clear the white primer away. The machine stripped the top layer of the balcony’s skin clean off and for the next several months, he felt naked, vulnerable and he burned in the sun until Landlord finally applied new coats of stain and sealant to him.

It was a process the balcony preferred not to repeat. 

But as she had proven time and again, Little Woman was different. 

Before she’d brought out her easel, she spread out layers of newspaper across the length of his face and settled heavy planters at the corners so they wouldn’t blow away. When she finally started painting, she was careful not to spill a drop on him and the balcony found himself interested; what was the canvas going to be?

In the end, it looked like it could be anything: a smattering of brush strokes in oranges, pinks, purples, greens and black. 

When she took a step back from the painting and regarded it thoughtfully, the balcony wondered what she saw.

The next time she worked on a painting, she tucked her supplies under one arm, headed to the roof and the balcony missed her.

\---

One night, Little Woman invited over three others. They had dinner on the couch and eventually moved to sit on the living room floor, right in front of the balcony. 

Before she seated herself, Little Woman opened the sliding glass door and took in a deep breath of night air. She was so… _nice,_ always thinking to include him. 

“Hey guyyss,” Little Woman slurred later in the night. “If I ever break up successfully with Julri one day? I wanna be a party princess in Narin City. And I wanna have a party thrown in my honor before I kick the bucket, mmmkay?”

The balcony wasn’t sure what a Julri was, but if it made Little Woman feel like anything less than the princess she was, the balcony hoped she would get rid of it.

Beside Little Woman, Blonde #1 was chugging wine straight from the bottle and cackling hysterically. Sprawled out on the other side of her was Purple Hair and Blonde #2. Blonde #2 was now lying down and if the loud sounds coming from her mouth were any indication, she’d fallen asleep.

They weren’t the best company the balcony could have hoped for, but they sure beat the loud parties and inconsiderate guests of the previous tenant. 

“Sorry, Pops, that’s a no-go until you learn to apply mascara properly. Am I right, Belle?” Purple Hair snickered.

If the balcony had a mouth, he would have frowned. Why shouldn’t Little Woman have whatever she wanted? And who was Purple Hair to decide what Little Woman was allowed to do?

The balcony dared Purple Hair to scoot out onto his wooden face; with any luck, she’d snag her red dress on the stubble of his boards. 

“Oh, go stuff your mouth with eggplant,” Little Woman retorted and then flopped herself down onto her back so that her upper body was sprawled over the balcony and her bottom half stretched out on the living room floor. 

The balcony could feel every shaky breath that passed through her little frame, every slight shiver of her spine. She felt… heavier than normal, like she was carrying the burden of something far too big for her.

The balcony _ached_ for her and he knew the apartment did, too. In this moment, they both carried the weight of whatever was gnawing at Little Woman. In this moment, they made a silent pact across their shared floorboards: they would keep her safe and warm. They would shelter her and her dreams until they came true. 

Even if it meant that one day, she would leave them. 

\---

When the red sports car first squealed up outside the apartment complex, the balcony realized that whoever was driving it did _not_ know how to park. The hood of the car was angled over the sidewalk and the rear bumper poked out into the street. 

The balcony himself, constructed of right angles and straight lines, appreciated someone who practiced parallel parking.

This person clearly did not. 

The driver side door opened and out stepped a massive, hulking man; even across the parking lot, the balcony knew he was bigger than any other human he’d seen. 

Big Man rounded the front of the car and opened the passenger door for… _Little Woman?_

What was _she_ doing with someone like _him?_

The balcony watched curiously as Big Man reached into the back of the car and pulled out a grocery bag. Was she going to cook him dinner? Were they going to eat it on the balcony? Little Woman had been doing that lately, now that the fever of late summer was gone and the nights had cooled off significantly.

But… what if Big Man wouldn’t fit? Would the balcony be able to support his weight?

Did the balcony even… _want_ to?

\---

A heavy footstep, another and suddenly, Big Man was walking across the balcony’s wooden face and then leaned hard against its railing. 

As the balcony suspected, Big Man was heavy, strong, but there was a lightness to his footfalls. This man moved with intent, precision and every step served a purpose.

Why was he so careful? What was he holding back?

Little Woman’s voice drifted through the threshold. “Are you checking out my balcony?” she asked Big Man. “It’s great, isn’t it? Even though the building’s so shabby, there’s an unobstructed view of the Narin River. The air is amazing, too. Super chilly, even in the middle of summer.”

The balcony already knew how much she appreciated him, but to hear her chat him up to a stranger meant the world to him. 

“Yeah, the view’s great,” Big Man replied, still gazing down at the parking lot. 

A gust of wind shivered across the balcony and his boards flexed with the breeze. Maybe Big Man wasn’t so bad. 

“And so are ya chances of a break-in.”

The balcony fumed. Just _who_ did this guy think he was?

“H-huh? What has that… got to do with anything…?” Little Woman asked. “I mean, even if it does… my front door’s padlocked and everything. T-that’s okay, right?”

Big Man was quiet a moment as he continued to peer over the railing. “Just five stories high…”

Okay, so maybe the balcony wasn’t the highest one on the building, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t substantial or capable. He was taller than Big Man, anyway. 

Big Man wrapped his thick fingers around the railing. “Railing’s old but still holding up well…”

Hmm. Kind of a backhanded compliment, but the balcony would allow it. 

The balcony listened as Big Man proceeded to tell Little Woman just how he would break into her building and then it felt her body begin to tremble; the pads of her bare feet shivered against his wooden face. 

_What_ was this guy’s problem? 

Big Man must have also sensed Little Woman’s sudden unease, as he reached out and gently wrapped his large hand around her tiny one.

Heat flooded off the two of them in waves and rolled across its railing. The balcony had never felt Little Woman quite like this before. Was she… excited? Happy?

“Why do you keep doing this?” Little Woman giggled after a moment. “You’re behaving like you’ve never held a person’s hand before!”

“I haven’t,” Big Man told her softly. 

As a connoisseur of feet himself, the balcony realized it was the first thing they had in common.

Later that night, after Big Man had left the building, the balcony discerned he didn’t care that they shared something in common. 

There was nothing to trust about a person who planted a device in a tree outside of Little Woman’s apartment. 

\---

With the speed of lightning, art supplies tucked under one arm, Little Woman rushed over to the balcony door, slid it shut and locked it. 

The balcony couldn’t deny it was hurt and it had a sneaking suspicion that Big Man had instilled a sense of fear and paranoia in her. 

While it could maybe, _possibly_ understand Big Man’s motives, the balcony wished Little Woman would place just a little more trust in him. No one had ever scaled the building or climbed over his railing and he wasn’t about to let it happen anytime soon.

Shortly after Little Woman had gone to the rooftop to paint, a blue sports car screeched up onto the sidewalk.

Big Man was back. 

The balcony watched as he leaned against the car for a moment and tugged at a cigarette. Then he walked forward and propped his body against the front gate. He pulled out his phone and made a call; even all the way across the lot, the balcony could see him smiling. 

He looked… _nice_ when he smiled. 

Another moment passed and then the gate clicked open for him. 

Was he talking to Little Woman?

No sooner had Big Man stepped onto the asphalt, Security Guard, followed by Sneaky Woman, emerged from the guard house and began yelling at him. Big Man ended the call and cigarette dangling out of his mouth, turned to regard the uniformed man advancing on him. 

Security Guard shouted some more. Big Man spoke, but it was so soft that the balcony couldn’t make out what he was saying. Big Man stood quietly for a moment and then put his cigarette out on his tongue. He curled Security Guard’s hand around the cigarette butt and the balcony watched as Sneaky Woman scuttled out of the lot. 

Security Guard ran back toward the guard booth and Big Man tucked his large hands in his pocket as he entered the building.

Something was _seriously_ up with this human.

The question was… what?

\---

Moments later, Big Man was bursting out of the building with Little Woman’s painting tucked under his arm.

The balcony watched as Big Man threw the front gate open, gently set the canvas onto the passenger seat of his car and then launched himself inside before peeling away from the curb. 

Had Big Man… _stolen_ the painting?

A muffled scream, coming from the rooftop. It sounded like Little Woman. 

Okay, he’d _definitely_ stolen it. 

Right?

A gust of wind sent dried leaves skittering over the balcony’s face and he let out a rickety groan.

Why did the rooftop get all the action?

\---

A few days after the Great Art Heist, a new human had taken Security Guard’s place. 

The balcony hoped this skinny, floppy-haired person was better than the last one; the last one had just let Big Man get away with Little Woman’s painting. 

Coward.

Landlord and New Security Guard chatted for a bit outside the guard house, then Landlord handed over a large ring of keys. The balcony regarded the man carefully; he had some stupid looking tattoos, but he seemed physically fit enough to get the job done. And if Landlord’s frivolous laughter was any indication, the man was nice enough, too. 

As long as he kept Little Woman safe, the balcony didn’t see a problem with him. 

That is, until Big Man showed up again. 

He stopped by the guard booth once or twice a week; it was always under cover of darkness, after Little Woman turned the apartment’s lights off. When Big Man first appeared on one of New Security Guard’s shifts, the balcony thought that maybe he would yell at him, try to scare him off or call the police. 

After all, Big Man had _some nerve_ coming back after what he’d done. 

Instead, New Security Guard clicked the gate open for Big Man and greeted him cheerily when he arrived at the window. 

Since the day of his construction, the balcony had _never_ been more insulted. 

Did Big Man really have _so little_ faith in the balcony’s ability to protect Little Woman that he’d planted one of his own men to watch over her? Why would he do that, especially after he’d proven _himself_ to be a threat to her by stealing her painting.

Unless… he _didn’t._

A misunderstanding, maybe? A favor?

Was it possible that Big Man cared about Little Woman as much as the balcony did?

\---

The next time the balcony saw Big Man, it was late at night and he was parking the red sports car in front of the gate. He got out of the vehicle and leaned against it, seemingly waiting. 

As the balcony regarded Big Man carefully, he realized Big Man was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He’d only ever seen him in deep, earth-tone colored clothing that obscured most of his body. 

But now, standing across the lot under the illumination of a streetlamp, Big Man looked… nice, like he wasn’t trying to hide anything. His arms were covered in bright colors and they reminded the balcony of Little Woman’s painting, the one that could be anything. 

Maybe Big Man was trying to be _something._

The apartment’s belly went dark and after a few moments, Little Woman was passing under the balcony with a large bag hitched over her shoulder. The balcony watched as she stood in front of Big Man and extended the bag toward him, a smile stretched a mile wide across her face. 

Big Man reached out, took the bag by its handle and opened the car door for her. 

Big Man was something, indeed. 

Later that evening, after Big Man dropped Little Woman off and she’d made her way inside, he lingered and leaned against his car for a long time. Big Man’s large shoulders slumped as he stared in the direction of where Little Woman had left him. 

Something told the balcony he was sad, as though that was the last time he would ever see Little Woman. Why else would he stick around long after she’d left?

The balcony couldn’t tell if it was the cold, wintry air drifting across his face, he was finally beginning to feel the effects of age or if it was something else, but he _ached._

He was… _sorry_ for Big Man. 

The balcony knew all too well how it felt to watch someone walk away for the very last time.

\---

The next morning, Little Woman was sad. 

The balcony could tell by the way she dragged her feet across him slowly, heavily. He suspected she’d come out to bring her plants in from the cold or to enjoy a mug of hot tea before heading into work, but she didn’t. 

Instead, she’d leaned hard into the railing, as though she needed its support to help her stand. The balcony was unsure why, but he was eager to oblige.

She stood quietly for a long time, her gaze lingering on the place where Big Man’s car had been parked. Then… rain. 

No, not rain. 

Water. 

Coming from Little Woman. 

She was crying. 

The balcony had felt water before; he’d taken the brunt of countless rainy days and thunderstorms, had felt the sprinkle of droplets as Little Woman watered her outdoor plants. But this, this was different. 

This wasn’t water spilled from the forces of nature or with the intent to nurture.

This was heartbreaking. 

The balcony had endured neglect, a power washer bath, cigarette burns on its railing, painful fading after too much attention from the sun. And he would gladly suffer each again before he ever felt Little Woman shed another tear on him. 

Her pain was too heavy and the balcony nearly buckled under the weight of it.

Whatever was going on between her and Big Man, he hoped they would figure it out. 

\---

Several nights later, a yellow car slid up outside of the gate. 

The balcony knew Big Man was not driving this one; it parked in a straight line, edged up perfectly alongside the curb. 

But regardless, Big Man was there, swinging his long legs out of the back seat. He rounded the trunk of the car and opened the door for… Little Woman, who was happier than the balcony had ever seen her. 

Little Woman giggled and chattered excitedly as she grabbed Big Man’s hand and pulled him forward through the gate. Big Man wore a smile big enough to rival hers. 

Without letting go of his hand, Little Woman skipped and danced through the parking lot, twirling herself in circles under Big Man’s arm. She was wearing the same red coat she’d left the apartment in, but also had a large, black jacket draped over her shoulders. 

Big Man walked Little Woman to the front of the building and moments later, she was clumsily unlocking the balcony door and yanking it open. She made her way uneasily across the balcony in some weird, spiky shoes that dug hard into his wood grained face. Little Woman wrapped the black coat tighter around herself.

Big Man was making his way back to the yellow car and turned when Little Woman called out to him over the railing. 

With one tiny hand, she threw a kiss down to where Big Man stood, who was once again wearing a large smile.

Big Man brought his hand to his face and pressed two fingers to his lips. Little Woman giggled and against the shivering cold, the balcony felt waves of heat radiate from her little body.

Little Woman was happy, leaning hard against the bannister and the railing groaned against her enthusiastic effort. The balcony wouldn’t let her fall, of course. 

But he had a funny feeling that if he did, Big Man would be there to catch her.


End file.
